


Red Jacket Girl

by lains



Category: Paranatural (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-04-06 11:09:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19061431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lains/pseuds/lains
Summary: Isabel beats up Johnny and wins his jacket.





	1. The Witching Hour

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic I wrote last year! I'm posting it cause I've got friends egging me on lol (and you're not going crazy, I've posted the first chapter a few times but I kept taking it down cause I'm a perfectionist. Not this time!!!)

“I call dibs.”

Far too late to be out on a school night, the swingset at the park stood lonely and unused. It had two swings, one with a seat that had snapped off one of the squeaky chains and now brushed listlessly over the fine dirt, etching its name deeper and deeper into the ground. The night breeze had grown resigned to pushing it after no other kid would. This was the bad swing. The one beside it, with strong rusty chain, with perfect sturdy seat, with kid magic enchanting it so it swung higher than any other (they all swore). This was the good swing.

To the kids knowledge, there were no curfews relating to the playground. Yet venturing to the place at night seemed forbidden and dangerous, as if with the orbit of the moon it had morphed into an evil haunt. A hideout to be filled with trouble and the devils music; Small town kids never seem to have much else.

“Race you.” A girl in a red jacket stepped confidently into the light.  Haunted places meant happiness, not suffocating emptiness or shadowy figures peeking over your shoulder. She was never apart from these places even for a second, nothing would hush her to a whisper here. It was nature, sixth sense, home.

"On three." Said the boy following behind her. He seemed to be the worse of the two, all teeth and spiked gel and black. He challenged with quick defiance, but his eyes danced over the empty swing as if he knew how wrong it looked. She was better with this stuff, not him. Nevertheless, he readied his feet to shoot ahead of her.

“One.”

"Three." A streak of red scrunchie ponytail, she was off.

"Whuh-" He sputtered, "You CHEATER," He was off, black boots beating into the ground as he called out, "GET BACK HERE!"

"Don't gimme that, I KNOW you were planning the same thing!" She called over her shoulder, red jacket turned orange in the streetlights. Her words curled at the edges, he could hear her smile, smug at stealing his head start.

"I would-" He suddenly appeared at her shoulder, "NEVER,"

"Yeah right, ratboy!" She pressed on, the swing was so close, "I'm not stupid-OW!"

He shoved past her and fell backwards into the good swing, smiling with selfish glee. "Not STUPID," He sneered, "jus' SLOW."

"Jerk," She spat, catching herself from falling and walking towards the swingset. She’d lost by just a foot or two. "That was a cheap shove."

"That was a cheap start!" He kicked back and swung slightly, difficult since he was slightly too big for the young child’s swing now.

"You were gonna do it too," She strolled over and grabbed one of the swings chains, leaning back on her heels to pull him with her. "I know you."

He leaned with her. "Had a head start and ya still lost."

"You were too slow for your own cheap start so you had to make up for it at the end. DOUBLE trouble cheap shots."

"Y'ain't gettin' this swing." He said.

Instead, she smiled with superiority and pulled her winning card. "I called dibs when we got here." Her dark eyes gleamed as her lips pulled into a challenging grin.

He gaped at her, flustered. "Dibs! Dibs don’t mean nothin’ if you don’t EARN 'em." In the dim light a pinkness under his freckles could be seen. It made him look more boyish, not scary at all.

"I've earned them TENFOLD. I've beat you in too many bets to be one upped now just because you-" She prodded her finger to his nose, baiting him, "-grew some freakishly long legs over summer vacation." His brows knit and he made to grab for her hand. She pulled away, grinning, and stuck out her tongue.

“Oh yeah?” He asked, already up for a second competition. “Fine, if it means that much to ya. I’ll bet you couldn’t beat me in a fight without cheatin’.”

“Cheating?” Her eyes flashed at the challenge.

“You heard me, no head starts,” He sniffed through his nose and spat on the ground, “ _And_ no ghost stuff. Your little Mary Poppins act is gettin’ real old.”

She rolled her eyes at this, “If telling yourself that I’m a cheater helps your ego, then be my moronic guest.”

“ _Whatever._ I want bareknuckle, got it?”

She held eye contact with him for a minute, smiled, and leaned against the swing’s chain.

“Easy.” She said. “How about...if I win, I get your jacket?”

His mouth dropped open. As if she had run a knife through his gut, as if she had asked for his firstborn, as if she had burned money in front of him. His eyes darted to the ground, scanning the laces of his boots in a seconds-long panic. He thinned his lips, took a deep breath, and looked up with conviction.

“Okay, and if I win,” His mouth twitched to reveal his teeth flashing white with venom, “Then I get your bike.”

Her eyes widened and her knuckles gripped the arms of her jacket tight. Her lips parted, and for a second’s hesitation she was silent. She bit down and sighed, “Alright, it’s a deal.”

“Tomorrow morning?”

At far too late on a school night, two kids were at the swingset.

“Yeah,” she said. “On the blacktop.”


	2. Blood Cell Chem-trail

As soon as the bell rang the cafeteria exploded in a cacophony of manufactured smells and middle school gossip. Absent today was talk of the newest video game news, getting rides home, science projects, and music. Today every student darted their eyes, pointed, craned their necks in hope of finding the event of the hour.

“Are they here? I don’t see them!” Said one kid as they wrapped a glob of gum around their index finger.

“‘Cause you’re looking at the lunch line! Everyone knows they both do cold lunch.” Replied a kid clutching a paper bag.

The string of gum flew in their mouth. “Are you sure it’s gonna be here?”

“All the data points to the cafeteria.” The paper bag crunched indignantly.

“Is the data your stomach?” A tall girl said with a smirk.

The kid chewed faster than the news could spread, “Y’all, it’s been like almost seven minutes, I don’t think it’s in here.” and the bubble gum popped audibly.

And then suddenly the tall girl whirled around, and leaned to a stranger of a different table, “What did you say?”

And the buzz deafened the rest of her question, as eyes widened, jaws dropped, hair spun. And in near perfect tandem the group leapt from their seats to pushing open the cafeteria doors. And the tallest girl went first, the chewing gum boy following closely, the kid with the paper bag following bitterly. And feet flew from lunchtime hangouts, usual spots, baseball backstops. And spirits flitted about and the larger ones stirred frantically as students tumbled through their bodies. And at each rounding corner and open classroom the sea of schoolchildren expanded until the brick building’s double doors sprung open from sheer seventh grade will.

The leads had just taken stage.

“Over there!” Directed the tallest girl.

Two flaring figures faced each other on the blacktop. They mirrored identical battle grins, feet apart, fists white with adrenaline. Sun glinted like stars off black hair and black jacket. Lunch break heat seared off the asphalt and billowed upwards in crashing blue waves.

It was all sunburn and bruised knuckle. He hurled a punch first. She parried with forearms up and titled, digging her heel into his shin.

He curled down on reflex, stumbled back tenderly on the leg she had struck, regaining his balance. A meter of unfilled space was between them.

A stadium crowd had formed around the fight.

_“Mess ‘em up!”_

_“Fight!”_

He flew back up with a snarl.

"Guerra!" He jeered.

His voice slurred between the gaps of his manic smile and hurled his fist into her nose. She winced sharply, ready to fall back.

Catching the opening, he hooked his arm around her shoulders. But his hand placement was clumsy and just close enough for her to catch it between her teeth.

" _OW!_ " He cried, yanking back reflexively.

She jabbed her elbow into his solar plexus and broke free.

 _“Ooooh.”_ The students groaned as he trampled backward.

A yard was between them before she wiped her mouth and spat at his shoes.

“Gross.” She muttered.

He stumbled to her with a grin twitching like a rat’s tail.

“Who you callin’ gross!?” He swung at her.

“Nobody,” Her grin was a broad sneer as she deflected, “Just this guy I beat up!”

He barked out a laugh as he lunged further, “So he was your warm-up before ya came down with me!?”

“You think you’re _that_ cool?” She scoffed.

“ _I’ll-”_ His hand lunged for her hair, “-mess you up!”

She whirled. Her ponytail cut the air.

“You can’t-” Her angry fist bloomed with a bruise,

“ _-scare-”_ and crashed into the bared canine jaw,

“-Me!”

He crumpled slightly. She seized his shoulder and yanked the sleeve loose. The rest of him shot up raggedy and his jaw cracked down on the toothy grin he had bore seconds earlier.

Above him, she spotted her chance. With one bleeding pull the jacket flew off his arm and spun so high the sun in his eyes eclipsed.

Down the blacktop she went. She didn’t dare hesitate because, as any seasoned fighter knew, stopping in her tracks would give him one more second to do her in. Her smile, bright and big and manic, and the jacket, gleaming black and fluttering behind her, parted the awestruck body of students in her path. In the blink of an eye she was gone.

\---

Except, Johnny saw, for the bright red pillar of smoke that trailed in her wake. For a moment, this was all in his line of sight, before he was bombarded by a trio of frantic faces.

“DUDE!!!” Ollie exclaimed fearfully as he lifted him into his arms.

With RJ following close behind, Stephen squawked, “SHE KICKED YOUR _ASS!!!_ ”

RJ jutted him in the ribs and draped a hoodie over Johnny as if he were a cadaver. Ollie’s mouth opened but the Gang’s voices melded too much with the rest of the fleeting crowd for Johnny to discern anything more than the fact they were moving. In a fog he peeked over Ollie’s shoulder, and Johnny saw the last clouds of cherry red disappear into blue. He didn’t stop looking until he felt blades of grass and his friends eyes poke into him. Stephen raised an eyebrow, then turned around to follow his gaze. He stared past the red pillar and instead followed a thin stream of cloud up into the sky.

“What you looking at? The chemtrail?”

Somehow, Johnny had too little energy to respond with any eloquence. “Whuh.”

“Y’know, I dunno if it’s the Feds or if it’s Corporate behind those, but it’s clear skies one minute, and then once they all show up, seems people start goin’ crazy.”

Ollie looked to the side and tried to disguise his groan with a comment, “God, that gal really did a number on your mug.”

Johnny blinked and forced his mouth to pull into a smile, then felt the skin on his right side scream. “Howzit look though?”

RJ snapped a picture and gave him a thumbs up.

\---

It’s hard to walk away sometimes, could you ever blame her?

The jacket wasn’t his. It had always been, from the moment she saw it on the school field with the sun leaving bright white zig zags on its black creases, absolutely hers. It called to her with a word that she would never ever ever apply to a rat-faced punk poser because it hung on him poorly and loose-fitted; _Cool._

_-and mine-_

Isabel thought as she ran over the fleeting reflected lights on the tiled hallway floor, smiling under her bloody nose.

 _-Finally showed that loser what I’m made of,_ she spun on her foot like a squeaking pivot and vaulted into the girls bathroom.

Throwing herself at the sink faucet, she cupped her quaking hands and dunked her nose in the cold water. Hot skin cooled, gushing nose quelled, knuckles gripped the counter purple, and red water swirled down the drain. A hand floated in and out of her pocket, then realized what it was doing and reached for the paper towels instead.

_Deep breaths._

_In, one-two-three._

_Now out,_ _one-two-three_.

_Now repeat._

With breathing came blood flow came more blood dripping down into the sink, the silence was only broken by running tap, deep breaths, and a gaggle of jellyfish trading rumors above the mirror. She might have stood at the sink for ten minutes before they grew bored of her and, but for one straggler, drifted out the door.

She caught its glance in the corner of the mirror and smiled beneath a paper towel.

“Aren’t you gonna get left behind? You should hurry and catch up to your friends.” She said to it.

The little jellyfish, a cyan blot in the doorway, stirred in agitation but refused. Isabel just shook her head. With a sigh that unclouded some dark spots, she ran another paper towel under the cold faucet. She couldn’t explain why, but cold stuff always felt better on fresh wounds. Heat always helped better with aches.

_I got it._

She couldn’t contain her grin. The jacket had the same smell of smoke in the air. The same smell of your hands after lighting a match. The same smell of a blaring fireplace on a cold night.

The weight of it on her shoulders was heavy and warm. Nothing would touch her, ever, not with this jacket on.

Nose unbloodied, she strolled fresh-faced back into the hallway. She watched the jellyfish zip across the ceiling in a rush to tell her friends the latest nosebleed update, disappearing behind what looked to be a goat on stilts. The corridor was teeming with life, spectral gardens blossoming from lockers, little hives in the fluorescent lights-

“Isabel Guerra. Seventh Grader. Cool Kid.”

-and student council.

She jumped at her full name and spun to find herself face to face with the shortest slice of the Student Council, Serge.

“Th-that’s me.” She smoothed her skirt and cursed herself for being followed.

_What would Grandpa say?_

_He would say: “Why were you followed?”_

_Because I kicked Johnny’s skinned Elmo BUTT that’s why ok shut up shut up shut up-_

“How are you?” She asked, sweet-voiced, “D’you need something?”

His black sunglasses flashed as he pressed them up, “Answers.”

She paused as she took a step backwards, “Okay, for what? Your funsheet?”

“I finished mine in class.” Serge said as he matched her pace, “I want to know why you are walking alone in the hallways, when a cavalcade of seventh graders stampeded to the blacktop at exactly eleven forty-five this morning.”

“I forgot my lunch money in my locker.” Isabel stuffed her hands in her pockets as she stepped to her left, eyes travelling to the girls restroom.

“A normal response, exceedingly normal, so normal that ten other students should be in these halls with the exact same excuse.” Serge stepped to his right, sunglasses on her. “But you are, in fact, alone, which leads me to assume these two strange occurrences are connected.”

Isabel halted and held eye contact with Serge’s dark glasses.

 _I don’t think that’s how forgetting works, but sure, decode my excuse._  
In one leaping stride she’d wrapped her fist in the collar of his shirt. He let out an uncharacteristic

_YELP_

as she yanked him violently into the girls restroom.

“Listen-” Isabel was cut short by his screaming.

“Y-YOU-”

“-DID YOU JUST-”

“-TH-THIS IS THE _GIRLS_ BATHROOM!!” The skin around his glasses turned deep red in fear, “I-I-I’M NOT SUPPOSED TO _BE IN HERE-_ ”

“You want answers?” Isabel asked, firmly holding him by the shoulders, “Calm down-”  
“DO YOU EVEN UN-UNDERSTAND HOW MANY _RULES-_ ” He fell silent when she clamped a hand over his mouth.  
“I’m guessing, like, one rule, but listen-” She leaned closer, “-there’s a rumor that Starchman and Garcia are having a _dance-off_ on the blacktop and the bets are _insane_. The hot lunch line will be empty for months if you and the Young Spender Rejects don’t put a stop to it, got it?”

The fear behind Serge’s glasses morphed into cautious determination as he took a shaking breath. “Got it-”

“Okayokayokayokay great now GO!” She shoved him stumbling-or-running down the hallway with his glasses askew and laces untied.

“Y-you’ll be seeing detention time for this!” Serge said, stumbling down the corridor.

One hand in her jacket, Isabel gave a thumbs up and a wink as she turned to stroll down the opposite end of the hallway.


	3. La Pascualita

“The bet-” Johnny growled,

“-don’t-” his feet stomped,

“-mean-” concrete pebbles rolled,

“-a god damn-” the cuss jumped from his tongue,

“-stupid _thing._ ” he hissed out a cloud of smoke.

Ollie gaped, “Yo, language-”

“S’right! I said it!” He spat at some higher power, then yelled loud enough for parents to hear, _“Damn!”_

A flock of bird-like, red tipped arrows scattered at the loud noise. To Ollie, his friend seemed to be snarling at the crisp blue sky itself. Johnny’s fingernails dug into his palms and he spat onto the street while his sneakers scuffed over blackened smears of chewing gum.

“ _God_ , she’s the worst.” Johnny fumed. “Walkin’ around all smug an’ cool like that. Who’s she think she is?”

“Uh huh.”

“She won’t even _wear_ it properly, didja see her?”

“I seen her.”

“I mean-” He sputtered under his own frustration, “Who!? _Who_ wears a jacket around their shoulders!? Ain’t like some superhero cape!” His fists balled so tight a knuckle cracked. “It’ll fall off when you run around! You can’t even get to the pockets like that, plus the arms aren’t covered so ya might as well just be wearin’ a blanket.”

He worked his tongue around his mouth, cringing at the sour taste the image brought him. Smoke fumed out his nostrils into the cool morning air, the day would have felt relaxing if not for the violent stomping of his shoes. The fists stuffed into his pockets jutted his elbows out awkwardly. He twisted his face into a glare as a message to any evil spirits or passersby that his bare arms would _not_ be mentioned.

\---

The tread to school stayed silent, with Johnny merely grunting his greetings to Stephen and RJ as they joined the pack. RJ side-eyed Ollie, who only shook his head helplessly in the simmering wait. Their eyes fell on Stephen, who blinked in surprise as he pulled an earbud from his ear. RJ nodded. Stephen’s whole being seemed to curl up in that predator-of-the-savannah grin, and he could barely contain his bounciness as he took a deep breath.

“So I was watchin’ a video yesterday about this dress shop in Mexico…” Stephen said.

Then, he paused, lying in wait of some following inquiry. But Johnny continued to scuff his sneakers over the pavement. RJ waved their hands in an usher to tell more.

He pressed on, “Well, not quite the dress shop, it was the mannequin inside that I was learnin’ about.”

Stephen fell silent again, casually checking his cuticles and watching the shape of the school building crawl closer. Ollie and RJ shared a glance. Ollie sighed and interrupted the pause.

“What mannequin-”

“La Pascualita!” Stephen said loudly, startling a few kids loitering near the school gate.

Ollie hid his grin by itching his nose. “Jeez, okay. Go on.”

“Okay, okay, okay, so-” Stephen said, almost bouncing up and down as his hands began to move in a frenzy, “So it’s this bridal shop in Mexico in the 1900s-like 1950 or somethin’-in Chihuahua, and-”

Johnny spiked up from his simmering thoughts with wide eyes, “ _Chihuahua?_ ” He said, shoving the double door open with his shoulder.

“No!” Stephen’s grin grew sharper and he snapped his fingers, “ _Not_ like the tiny dog! Like the state!”

Johnny, casting his troubles aside, began to match Stephen’s pace down the entryway. “Yuh huh.”

“So there’s this mannequin there, an’ she’s _crazy_ life-like, she’s got eyelashes and nostrils and fingernails and stuff! But most crazy of all-” Stephen’s eyes darted around the pack, catching their rapt attention. “-is she looks just like the shop owner’s daughter who died on her _wedding day_.”

Johnny gasped, RJ’s jaw dropped, Ollie blinked.

“She died of a broken heart cause her ma wouldn’t agree to the wedding! But her mom was so sorrowed that she _hung her up in the store window and now she haunts the place and I wanna go there so freakin’ bad you guys._ ”

Ollie sighed as RJ listened intently. Johnny laughed in agreement and punched Stephen in the shoulder as he gushed.

“I read rumors that she moves around on her own an’ dances around the store at night! I’ve got pics, hang on…” Stephen brought out his phone once they’d stopped at Johnny’s locker.

“Yo, Arge, we really gotta add that to the summer list,” Johnny said over his shoulder as he entered his combination. Once open, he turned, “I dunno where Chihuahua is, but-”

The double doors parted.

Johnny’s face dropped, stone in water, as his eyes met something past RJ’s head. Pink crept up his jaw. The good-natured smile he had donned wrinkled to a bloodthirsty scowl. His knuckles squeezed his locker door so tightly the metal began to glow.

The gang turned, the mannequin corpse bride pulled up on Stephen’s phone, to find a girl in a jacket at the wide open doors. And Johnny was jacket-less, exposed to the world in a far less cool state than he would be if Isabel Guerra didn’t exist.  Mouths gaping wide, the three slowly turned back to him. Furious waves of heat wafted from his quaking shoulders.

“Dude.” Ollie hushed.

“Is that-” Stephen gulped.

RJ pulled at the strings of their hoodie.

The metal in Johnny’s hand bent audibly.

“Ain’t worth it.” Ollie said.

Stephen and RJ looked up at him in surprise. Ollie just shook his head fervently.

They all jumped at the sound of a crash, and Johnny shot past them down the hall. Stephen and RJ whirled back to the space he had just left to see the smoldering door of Johnny’s locker hanging pitifully ajar from its hinges; Johnny had bent the metal right around the locking mechanism, and warped it so no latches would click together and close. It had ricocheted from the slam and was now slowly, slightly steaming, falling open again.

Stephen looked up at Ollie, then back at the locker, then down the hallway to Johnny, then back to the locker, then back up to Ollie. RJ reached out and pushed it closed, only for it to immediately release with a tinny squeak.

“You guys.” Ollie pulled them both from their shock by the scruffs of their necks and dragged them down the hallway.

Stephen scrambled his thoughts together and called out, “Johnny!”

“Man, I’m tellin’ you!” Ollie yelled, “Not today!”

RJ anxiously pulled their phone out as they jogged along with the taller boys, eyes peeking above heads in an effort to find Johnny. Then they glanced down with distaste, locked their phone, and broke into a sprint down the hall with the other two in tow.

\---

Isabel’s ponytail swung with each step, daring anyone to come up and try to swipe what was just out of reach. The strawberry scrunchie floated around his vision, a ladybug on a window, a laser pointed at the wall, a blood moon orbiting the sky.

He shoved past a sixth grader or two, barreled through the band geeks, and darted between the feet of some strange turquoise elephant. He ducked his head down and curved between each and every student as a dog would sniffing through a field. Untied shoelaces dragged behind him. The girl in his jacket drew closer with each sweltering step. The tiles between them numbered down--twenty--seventeen--eleven--

“‘Ey.” Johnny said, his feet and scowling face planted firmly in her path.

Isabel stared at him in utter confusion for a moment.

Then she raised an eyebrow, “ _Morning._ Do I need to answer your Troll Riddle in order to cross the bridge?”

His eye gave a twitch as his chin jutted out in petulant demand, “Don’t think I didn’t remember about you not givin’ me my jacket back to me, Guerra.”

“...Too many negatives, could you repeat that?” Isabel replied.

Johnny stamped his foot in frustration, “ _Jacket._ Ya said you’d gimme it!”

“What!?” She said before grasping the jacket tightly, “N-no I did _not!_ That wasn’t what we agreed!”

“You-” Johnny sputtered as smoke wafted from his ears, “It was _so!”_

“Was not!” Isabel leaned right in with him and jabbed her finger in his chest, “We made a bet and you lost! It’s not my fault you’re butthurt!”

“Well, I _bet_ your _butt’s_ gonna get _hurt_ if you don’t gimme my jacket back!” He said, red face fuming.

The arms swallowed in the sleeves of their jacket crossed indignantly. She blew a loud raspberry in his face, rolling onto her toes when he leaned back with a twisted scowl. Their argument could be heard on either end of the traffic-jammed hallway. Passing students chose, wisely, to step around them.

“It just looks plain _off_ on you!” Johnny sneered.

“The only thing ‘off’ about me,” Isabel tightened her ponytail and stepped into Johnny’s space, “Is the fact I’ve somehow got enough patience to deal with you!”

At their commotion, two boys had stopped in their tracks at the corner.

“Y’know what it is?” Johnny tapped his forehead with his index finger sarcastically,  “It ain’t your size,” He shoved her shoulders and plucked at the collar by her chin. “That jacket is too big for a shrimp like you!”

“Oh, _this_ jacket? You mean _my_ jacket?” She grinned smugly and popped the collar, “I think it fits great!” She fluffed the jacket around her shoulders, so that it looked extra baggy. Sixth graders at their lockers on the opposite end of the corridor had fallen silent.

Spotting his chance, he lunged and grabbed for her shoulder, where the jacket lining hung just lose enough for him to-

In a flurry of red she seized his wrist. His sneakers squeaked on the linoleum as she stepped away and yanked his arm over her shoulder, curling down and sending him rolling through the air. Three students who had stopped walking took several steps back and gasped.

He tumbled over his head and lay sprawling on the cold tile. The fluorescent light fish were rippling and dancing above him as if he had been thrown into their pool of water.

Several curious passersby crowded closer, almost in a protective wall around the pair.

Isabel stood, all blush and rose in her bright clothes and ponytail, and all scarlet and punch in her balled fists and dark jacket. Johnny opened his eyes with bleary difficulty. His mouth seemed to flounder open and closed for a moment. Classmates whispered behind them, shuffling anxiously at the lull in the action, yet still crowding closer for a look. A few distant doors slammed and backpacks zipped. A murmur drifted over the crowd. Students turned to the north hall and their faces paled.

“VP!” A voice said, which prompted several echoes.

“Student council!?” One said loud enough for others to hear.

A can of soda flew onto the ground and exploded in a cloud of fizz,

 _“SCATTER!”_ Someone screamed.


	4. Missing 411

The sea shifted past the two of them, in a frenzied mess of trying to find a path to the closest exit. Isabel craned her head up and glanced left-right-left at each end of the hall. She darted her head back down, balled her fist in the front of Johnny’s shirt, and narrowly avoided losing him under countless pairs of sneakers as she yanked him to his feet.

But _only_ getting him to his feet, she promised to let go once he was walking.

Shoulders and band-cases and backpacks crashed into her as she wormed her way through the crowd, hands free and just about to be stashed in her pockets. Parts of the baggy jacket stuck, tugging off her shoulder and onto some passing kid’s keychain, forcing her to twist her ankles in doing complicated untangling twirls. Among the passing chatter someone cried out, though she couldn’t make it out entirely,

_Swear to god, if it’s-_

A hand grabbed her shoulder, and she turned as much as she could,

“I said slow down, _candy-face._ I knew you’d be too chicken to get caught!”

_Of course._

“I’ll push you over! I will!” She cried over the noise.

“Try it, Red-” Johnny pushed free arm in front of her, “I’ll pull you down with me!”

“Don’t you have some fire hydrant to whizz on, Johnny?”

“Anyone ever told’ja you look like a toothpick?”

She actually scoffed, “Seriously? That’s all you got? I look perfectly fine!” She was cut off and shoved to the right by an eighth grader, “But I guess it’s hard for you to tell since your head is full of hot air. I hear that can really cloud your vision.”

For his own stability, as well as hers, Johnny kept a firm hold on her shoulder. The crowd carried them to a corner and Isabel stood on her tiptoes to see what lay beyond it. Specifically, to see if any teachers were hiding in its shadows. She stumbled briefly over someone’s binder, and over someone else’s head of curly hair she saw a mercifully empty hallway, lined with closed salmon lockers and spirits only they could see. She nudged her elbow into his side and he took her cue to jut his own elbow into a student’s back.

They broke apart from the stream of students and fell into the empty corridor. A gaggle of orbs flashed before her vision, only to shy away when they noticed her company. Johnny leaned against the wall and rubbed his neck, Isabel’s shoulders rose and fell in an effort to catch her breath. Out of habit, her eyes scanned for a bathroom, but none were in sight. The heavy emptiness of the school hallway was setting in and embracing her.

Time froze, clocks stopped, as the bell rang out over the school. A cough, a moments passing breath. Then they locked eyes and picked up their showdown right where it had left off.

He squinted and furrowed his brow, “It still fits ya like a sack.”

“I won it fair and square.” She said.

“I _said_ no spec-stuff! No flips an’ dances!” He took a step towards her.

She grinned with a small sense of pride, “Yeah, I know.”

He opened his mouth and for a second no sound came out. Then he raised a hand and gestured at all of her. “You did! I know you did, it was too fast.”

“I didn’t even have my umbrella with me, Johnny.”

“You-” His balking mouth wrinkled into a scowl, “You did something.”

“You’re right,” She crossed her arms, gripping the sleeves tightly, “I kicked your butt and won myself a jacket.”

He rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, “Why'd you even want it!?”

“Because it looks _cool!_ ”

Her retort hung in the air between them.

He hesitated, pink blooming under freckles, with breath that hissed through teeth the exact same way the kettle whistled at home when she rushed to take it off the burner. Isabel’s curled fists drop to her sides. The school tiles seemed to root her sneakers to the ground, and as her fingers relaxed the red unfurled into harmless rosy clouds.

“...But-” She huffed. “-It looks cooler on me.”

Light fish chased each other down the halls, to the untrained eye they would have just been reflections of the overhead light casting on the floor. He let his mouth open, then close, then open again, and a little curl of smoke puffed out.

“Cool.” He said simply.

“I guess,” Isabel forced her hands in her pockets and kicked the floor, walking away from his eye contact and to the staircase they had been arguing in front of. She sat in a heap.

Johnny slumped down on the staircase beside her, Isabel’s hands rested on her knees. He picked at the jacket’s sleeve on her wrist, a string he’d pulled loose weeks before still hung from a seam. Isabel paid him a small glance as she rested her chin on her free hand. She raised her wrist and waved it a little, making the string twirl. Johnny’s hand followed it unconsciously before he blinked and scowled at her. She cracked a smile.

He looked away quickly, distracting himself with the lettering on the custodian's closet, “So why’re _you_ ditchin’? Someone’ll think you went missing.”

Isabel’s silence allowed the question to play in the space between them. It shuffled around the vacated corridor and past the lockers, fizzling to nothing before they could reach any ears besides hers. She shook her head-Johnny watched the light glimmer off of her ponytail as it swung to and fro-and she shrugged.

“...As much as I love getting screamed at by old men,” She said, fingers twirling around the stray thread in little figure-eights. “I’d rather devote my energy to fun stuff.”

He glanced at her sideways, cheek on his fist, “Ain’t very _star pupil_ of you.”

Her brow cinched but she didn’t look up, “Oh, like you’re such an expert.”

Johnny let his eyes fall to the floor, and for a moment he counted the alternating colored tiles down to the corner they had come from. Then, quietly for him, he said, “What kinda fun stuff?”

Her head snapped up with slightly wide eyes. She peered at him for a minute, fingers paused on the string, then she lowered her gaze. A moment was spent in apprehensive thought.

“I like to sit out here and read library books sometimes,” She said haltingly and quietly. “I get a snack from the vending machine if I have money.”

He straightened up, eyes just as wide as hers had been, and balked. “You _read?_ ”

“Or I talk to spirits. It makes time pass quickly, but it’s louder and attracts teachers.”

“Thats…” Johnny cocked an eyebrow in confusion, “...boring.”

She grimaced and gave a short laugh, chin in her palm, “So is class. I hate to break it to you, but my life doesn’t revolve around getting in fights with stupid boys.”

Johnny sat up straighter and grinned wider, “Who you callin-”

He was cut short by the sound of footsteps, resolute and uniform, treading down the empty hallway.


	5. The Men In Black

Isabel grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back while she leaned further forward out of the staircase. Johnny grunted in protest, ready to swat her away, but when he saw the look in her eyes he gulped and climbed back. Isabel, ever daring, leaned further past the safety of the corner to spot black and white shoes walking--not running--down the hall.

Isabel groaned. _This one again._

Serge halted so fast his shoes squeaked on the tile.

“What are you doing out of class?” He said.

Isabel’s breath caught in her throat and she smiled on instinct. Johnny stirred.

“...What are…” She stalled, “... _You_ doing out of class?”

“I deliver these during my study period. It’s extra credit.” Serge said, holding up a bundle of pink and blue call-slips.

“Wow, that’s…cool.” Isabel replied. In her peripheral she saw Johnny slowly stand up and walk out of her field of vision.

“I’ve answered your question, now you answer mine.” Serge crossed his arms.

“Um, I’m just going--” She was cut off with an  
“ _OW-”_ and a “- _Crap-”_

And when she looked over her shoulder, Johnny was already tumbling face first down the few steps they’d been seated on. His left foot was splayed awkwardly; he’d made a misstep on his back-track up the flight and his heel had slipped. Johnny sprawled onto the tile. The whites of Serge’s eyes turned to saucers behind his glasses. His jaw dropped open.

Johnny opened his eyes and slowly found Serge in his dizzying vision. He slowly bridged his gaze across the ceiling, following a spirit camouflaged in the paint, and made eye contact with Isabel. He silently asked,

_Are we gonna get busted by a guy like this?_

Isabel shot straight up. She tucked a flyaway behind her ear, folded her hands behind her back, and smiled brightly.

“The nurse!” She said with an airy laugh. “I’m taking Johnny to the nurse. He twisted his ankle and can’t walk on it very well. We were just resting.”

“Yeah!” Johnny nodded from the floor, “It uh...hurts like hell. Ow.”

As she pulled Johnny to his feet she gave him a very pointed look:

_Act injured._

Johnny darted his eyes to Serge, then pulled them back. He wrapped an arm around Isabel’s shoulders and focused all his weight on one foot. She groaned and pinched his ribs-

_Not that injured you bag of bricks._

Johnny grinned with all his teeth, then twisted his face in agony.

“ _Ow!_ My leg!” Johnny winced. “Ah golly, this looks like it’s it for me, Guerra…”

“See? It’s really bad, we gotta get going!” Isabel added. She pulled Johnny past him and down the hallway Serge had entered from.

Serge shuffled the call-slips in agitation, looking back and forth at the pair. “You two-”

“Oh, the _pain…_ ” Johnny cried to the overhead lights, “Guerra...tell my gang...I died with honor…”

Isabel patted his hair and looked solemnly back at Serge, her lip quivering and eyes shining with tears.

“Wait,” He announced.

Isabel halted. Johnny squeezed her shoulder, his mouth parted in silent words because Johnny’s two settings were Outdoor voice or No Voice At All.

_What are you-?_

Isabel hushed him through her teeth. She shook her head and took a deep breath.

“Yeah?” She said.

“Wh-when you get there-.” Serge said, having finally come to his senses. The call-slips wrinkled in his fist. “Get a nurses note, both of you, and bring it back to me at lunchtime!”

Isabel actually gave a small laugh, and Johnny’s hand on her shoulder relaxed. “Sure, of course!”

“Issa new _type_ of twisted ankle, y’see,” Johnny called from over his shoulder, glaring gleeful daggers in Serge’s direction, “I think it might be _contagious!_ As in--”

Isabel pressed her hand over his mouth as they rounded the corner. She could feel Johnny’s ribs jump with secret laughter as she tugged him down the hallway. Her mouth was shut tight, and the combined snickers broke them apart in a tumultuous dash down the hall. It wasn’t until they hit the gym, with only the locker rooms close by, that they combusted into laughter.

“Busted ankle-!? _”_ Johnny’s grin pulled wide.

“How did you fall down, like, _four_ stairs!?” Isabel’s giggling face was in her hands

“Wait-wait-wait…” Johnny waved his hands and leaned against the wall. Then, in a poor falsetto, “Oh, why _yes,_ Serge! We’re just going to the _nurse!”_

Isabel shoved his shoulders, a chuckle in her throat, “Shut u-u-up! I wasn’t the one crying for my _mom_ back there.”

Johnny’s head leaned back in a bark-like laugh, “You’re jus’ mad cause I’m a better actor!”

She brushed her bangs back, grinning, and scoffed, “Actor is one word for it.”

Johnny grinned and slid down to sit against the wall. After a moment of standing, Isabel strolled over and joined him. Little aftershocks of giggles and mean jokes punctuated the silence between them. Sounds of gym class and moving hoards of spirits were heard beyond the walls, squeaking sneakers and curses being thrown. A small family of leafy bipeds walked shyly past the two of them. Eyes, all eyes, blinked at them from the opposite wall. Some dark shapes scuttled from inside the fluorescent light bulbs-they would be easily mistaken for roaches.

Johnny blinked, then let out a laugh. “I think I broke my locker. When I got to school.”

Isabel grimaced. “‘Cause you were chasing me down? That sucks.” She rested her chin on her knees, “Dummy.”

Johnny snorted and rapped his knuckles on her shoulder.

“I still gotta get my books and stuff…” Isabel sighed.

Johnny grinned, “Your _library_ books.”

Isabel squinted in offense. “Maybe! I have lots of books.”

“Uh huh,” He rubbed his eyes, “But your thing is the uh...umbrella? Flapjacks the umbrella?”

“ _No,_ ” She huffed, “His name is Flipflop.”

Johnny snorted at this, which only prompted her to swat him on the head.

“Like you’re one to talk, Mister _Friendship Fusion._ ” She jeered.

“‘Ey! At least mine’s with _real people_.”

“Flipflop is cuter.”

“I’ll knows it when I sees it.” He said, fixing the spike of hair she had bent out of place.

\---

Towards the end of their reverie, the air changed. Distant sounds of opening and closing doors altered the drafts coursing through the school currents. Voices carried themselves closer and further away. Walls of lockers ticked, opened, slammed shut. They would be missed soon.

After the bell rang, Isabel picked herself up and dusted off the seat of her skirt. She didn’t spare a glance walking away from the bursting gymnasium doors. As the class they’d missed poured out, the pair found themselves weaving through a crowd for the third time that day. Isabel craned her head up in search of a friend to accompany her to the cafeteria. The hand closing around her arm she turned to greet with a smile until she saw that it was just him.

Johnny leaned on her shoulder, his voice only quiet because of the crowd surrounding them.

“I betcha I’ll win it, next time.” He said.

“This time, could you bet something you can _actually handle_ losing, please?” She said, one eyebrow quirked as she glanced over her shoulder.

“I bet the nice swing set that I’ll beat ya.” He nodded with a grin. “Meet me at the park, 10 o’clock.”

She elbowed him lightly in the gut, “No! I have a club thing after school.”

He rolled his eyes with a groan, “Again with your men in black stuff?”

“It’s not men in black, It’s…”  
She fell silent. Johnny pressed on.

“You free Friday?”

Isabel hesitated for a moment. Whether it was from the overwhelming noise, or something else, she wouldn’t let herself linger on for long.

“Yeah,” She said finally. “I’ll bring band-aids.”


	6. Hollywood

"You look bad." Max said flatly.

Johnny adjusted a pair of yellow-tinted aviator sunglasses and hummed in response. Strewn across the checkout counter between them were:

  * (1) box of animal crackers (Which Johnny called ‘a pack of camels'. His smile made it unclear if he was joking or not.)
  * (1) can of Squeeze Cheese
  * (2) five dollar bills
  * (9) pairs of sunglasses-



-with lenses smudged by the fingers of a kid who had no idea how to reasonably pick out a pair of sunglasses. That same kid was reaching for his tenth pair.

"Please just pay." Max said with eyes glazed over.

“Whadda y'all think?” Johnny put his back to Max and gestured at his new look.

The gang had formed a wall in front of the potato chip aisle. Ollie in the middle, Stephen sipping an extra large soda on the right, and RJ holding a film canister on the left. The trio stared quizzically with brows that nearly moved in tandem. RJ smiled, but Ollie simply held his hand in the “so-so” movement. Stephen’s mouth almost corkscrewed.

“Too Hollywood,” He said, then slurped from the straw loudly. “You ain’t the cultish type.”

“No yellows, man, they make ya look like a fast food mascot.” Ollie added.

Johnny and Max groaned.

The automatic doors rolled open and the group swivelled to it. In walked Isabel. Her head was cast down at the floor and in one hand she grasped the handle of her umbrella. She wiped her other hand on the side of her leggings and a paperback book was sandwiched under her arm. Johnny bristled at the sudden light coming from outside.

“Hey.” Max waved at her, half-hearted and half-lidded.

Isabel stared wide-eyed at Max. Johnny dropped his eleventh pair of sunglasses on the counter with an audible clatter and turned to face her in the doorway.

“Would you care to buy something and get me out of-” Max began.

“I just wanted some candy!” Isabel said. She darted down aisle one, where appliances were stocked, and disappeared behind the multicolored walls of cellophane and soft drinks. Johnny abandoned his irresponsible purchase to part his wall of friends and scuttle down the aisle parallel to hers. The smile on his face made Max lock doubtful eyes with Ollie.

“-this.” Max said.

“Yo, Guerra! Izzat a library book? I hope ya got the _due date_ written down.”

“I can’t hear you I’m looking at plungers.”

“What’s it about, huh? _Bad excuses?_ ”

She peeked out from behind a brochure rack with a scowl. “You really wanna know?”

“...Well, uh.” Johnny said, pondering for a moment. He shrugged, “Okay, sure.”

She peered at him intently. She leaned out slightly further to assess the gang still gathered at the checkout counter. She gripped the paperback tightly, taking a single ginger step out, then another until she and Johnny faced each other. She finally took a deep breath.

“This one,” Isabel declared, holding the book in front of her nose so they could see the cover perfectly, “Is about Kinnexa, a woman spy from Atlantis. She’s preventing multi-realm war between three different spectral races.”

“...Spectral races.” Johnny mused at nobody in particular. Stephen nodded his chin up while RJ and Ollie shifted footing. The motion made Johnny’s eyes pinball in uncertainty.

“I mean, yeah, but they’re not-” She lowered the book with bright eyes and scanned the painted cover illustration. “They’re more like aliens than ghosts...the lore is kind of nonsensical.”

Stephen scowled, “So ghosts are okay, but aliens are crazy? Really?” He took a sip of soda, in preparation for a monologue. “The universe is massive, y’know! There’s satellites that have only recently left the solar system. The milky way is _tiny_ , one of Saturn’s moons has a _methane cycle,_ they’ve already discovered Super Earths-”

"Aren't you the kid who thinks action movies are directed by the Illuminati?" She asked.

"Guerra, I don't think," Stephen slammed his cola onto the counter so the shaking ice

punctuated the pause, " _I know._ "

"...More importantly,” Isabel said with a smile before turning back to Johnny. “The due

date, for your information, is next Wednesday.”

“You care more ‘bout stupid books than my actual stuff, huh?” Johnny stepped into her

space, his tone accusatory, but his grin playful. “Where’s the due date on that?”

Isabel swatted the paperback on his forehead. “You didn’t give me one, dummy.”

“Come _oooon!_ ” He flailed his hands around his hair to smooth it, “New due date

affirmative RIGHT now!”

“Too late.” Isabel blew a raspberry and fanned the book again, “Shoo.”

“ _hey-_ Quit it!”

“Shoo!”

Johnny scuttled back the way he’d come, blowing an equally rude raspberry at her, to

the awaiting gang. Loose change clattered on the checkout counter. The register printed the receipt with a whirr. The bag rustled in Ollie’s hands as Max halfheartedly waved them goodbye.

“Friday, girliebird.” Johnny muttered as he glanced at her from the threshold.

Isabel, in slight surprise, waved. The other three nodded.

Max continued to stare as they walked out the door, eyes narrowing smaller and smaller

while Isabel plopped a cherry cola onto the counter.

“Didn’t even leave a tip.” Max grumbled.

“...I think I’ve got some extra change if it makes you feel better?” Isabel said while digging through her pockets.

“Well-” Max was mid-eyeroll when he saw it. His eyes fell wide, “Oh my god.”

Isabel turned.

Standing out front of the corner store, in plain view from the large windows, was the gang. The three had circled around Johnny standing tall and proud in the street. No one but him could have stood so proudly while holding-no, it could only be described as brandishing-a can of squeeze cheese.

“He can’t...does he think it’s a can of-?”

“Oh. My God.”

Johnny’s mouth moved soundlessly. He gestured with grandeur at the squeeze cheese. He pointed to himself, then to the can, then waved his arms high in a _BOOM._ Isabel and Max sat enraptured, too dumbfounded to break the spell

“He is not.” Max whispered.

“He is.” Isabel responded

Johnny proudly sparked a flame on his fingers. No larger than the flame of a lighter.

“Isabel, _no._ ”

“I know.”

Johnny pointed the bottle away from him, outwards into the street, for safety probably. His grin while he laid the tiny flame in front of the nozzle was tantamount to an explosion on its own.

“Can we stop him?”

“In theory.”

The gang enthusiastically stepped back. Johnny pressed down.

A cloud of smoke burst around the cheese bottle. Something, somewhere, crackled and burst through the air. Johnny recoiled with a start, Ollie and Stephen retreated. A flash of white and a curse word and

Smoldering, blackened, over-processed cheese bubbled at their feet. RJ’s camera rolled out a polaroid.

Every member of the gang cried out in victory. Johnny was jumping up and down, whooping and hollering, hands covered bright orange. Stephen was doing fist pumps and spilling his soda. RJ was showing off their photo with a flourish and dancing along. Ollie was scraping the sole of his shoe across the pavement with a repulsed grimace.

“Isabel, have I ever told you I don’t get paid?” Max asked.

“Nothing could pay you enough for this.” Isabel said as she twisted open her cherry cola.


	7. Rendelsham Forest Incident

Isabel cracked the door open, slipped into the dark, and leaned back until the door was quietly shut. Ed sat like a little rock in his big bean bag chair, facing the bright television in the far corner. A controller sat dead in his hands and the game projected a pair of little green soldiers onto his glasses. She took a shaky breath.

“Ed?”

“Yeah?” The glasses were still.

“I-I think I’m gonna go to Max’s or something.”

“..for tonight?”

“No just...just for like, a little while, I think. I dunno, but I’ll call you if I stay.”

Ed’s fingers clicked the buttons and the elf boy slashed at a knight. A saccharine couple of notes played as he held a potion above his head. “Okay.”

Isabel shivered as she watched the TV turn blue, then pink, as he entered an evil dungeon and spawned several enemies.

“If grandpa’s still acting crazy, call me and I’ll come get you, okay?”

“I think it’ll be okay,” A menu appeared, and Ed scrolled through until he found his potion. “But thank you.”

She wiped her nose with her sleeve and turned the doorknob quietly. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

\---

Isabel rinsed off her toothbrush and stashed it in her pajama pants pocket, in between the hair brush and toothpaste, and watched her reflection take a deep breath in the mirror.

_You got this. Just be fast and don’t get caught. Get to the gate and you’re home free._

She tried not to notice how little space she took up in the mirror, and blatantly ignored the large whites of her eyes. Locking the bathroom behind her, she walked her most timely and effortlessly casual way up to her bedroom before anybody noticed.

Softly shutting the door, she relinquished the breath she never realized she had been holding. Her hands frantically grabbed for the jacket splayed on her bed. While it did not fix everything, feeling the weight over her and the warmth grow around her somewhat eased the beating of her heart. Its smokey smell offered promise.

_Just breathe. Just breathe. Just breathe._

As she pulled the jacket snug her wooden walls grayed to concrete, graffiti names and bright faces bloomed across every surface. In place of her door subway windows had appeared, flickering fluorescent lights spanned her ceiling, and in her bed, a turtle on a sheet of cardboard.

“Heya Boss!” Flipflop greeted with a droopy eyed smile.

“Hey,” Isabel looked up from tying her shoes and gave a strained smile. She raised her hand slow, but halted when he made a minute lean backwards. “Do you wanna do this?”

Flipflop looked up at her, recovering, “Y-yep, on your mark.”

She frowned at this, and kneeled to his level. “...Positive? You can say no.”

But Flipflop nodded, with all the conviction his round face could muster, “I-I can do this!”

She patted him lightly on the head as she grabbed her backpack and the umbrella, lying flat on the floor with a smile. “I’m gonna stay with you, okay? I move faster in here.”

 _fwip_  
A blink of her eyes, and she was clinging to the bathroom ceiling, reading the graffiti on the grimy tile floor. She swung her right leg and ignored the wincing pain of landing on one foot (better swings could wait) and unlocked the bathroom door before jumping back to the opposite wall. Her breath caught in the fleeting guessing-game of how long to hesitate.

_fzt_

She flitted to the other side before she could bother with lucky guesses, gulping in night air and opening her eyes to see a Mayview-spanning subway station before her.

Train tracks counting the hundreds etched over the entire field surrounding the mansion, out of her sight was the chest length grass and lurching entity of forest. In place of it stood a million station gates as thin as the spaces between forest trees, signs tacked above them too small for any eyes to read. She ducked her head because, while dark and speed were on her side, an onlooker catching a red comet streaking through the grass would not be. Edging along the perimeter of the mansion, she peeked around the corner and surveyed the scene and saw-

_Shoot._

Trainees, six or seven,

 _but probably six if they’re gonna pair up for sparring_ ,

stood on the opposite end of the rail yard, faded gray and suspended like puppets in Flipflop’s slow mindscape. Isabel stepped a daring foot into the open, firmly planted and ready to run, and forced her lungs to work and dissipate some of the inconveniently bright red energy rolling off her back.

_Easy, easy, easy._

_None of them will see, they can’t use their spirits to get to my speed, it’s not in the training plan. If they cheat and I get caught then I can drag them down with me. Not that Grandpa would care about that if he caught me sneaking out but-_

Another deep breath. It quaked with her drumming heartbeat.

_-okay, I’m just…a passing car. Some unknown red light passing through the trees. A UFO. I went up to my room._

_Look both ways._

Off she went, ducking as low and running as fast as her body would allow her to do both at once, shoes thundering into the ground and knuckles squeezing white around her straps, the backpack bouncing behind her that she could deal parting with more than the umbrella handle tangling itself in her hair, the train tracks blurring into fleeting stripes under her feet as the dark train tunnel grew bigger and blacker and one last _leap_ down the ledge and smiling through the pain of landing on one foot and

_fip_

to the other side of the gate. Her lungs full of air, in the safe dark tunnel, her back against the steel bars, she laughed shakily.

“Thanks dude,” She groaned, stretching her arms above her head, “You were great.”

Flipflop stared up at her, then flipped his hat to the front and lifted it with a goofy smile, “I-I gotcha, Boss! Anything you need!”

Isabel smiled, then nudged his head with her knuckle and held a fist out to him. Flipflop looked up at her, then her hand, then up at her again.

“C’mon.” Isabel encouraged, bouncing her fist with emphasis.

Flipflop jumped, “Oh!” and bowed his head to the ground.

“Wh-no! I wasn’t-” She started, then dropped her fist in defeat. “-I’m not gonna-”

Then, with a groan, she scooped the turtle up and began walking away from the gate. Holding him up at face level with ease, she said, “I’m not gonna hit you, Flips. Not when you can’t hit me back.”

“If I could…” Flipflop’s face fell in a frown. “...hit you back?”

She adjusted her arms a bit and focused on her shoes, “Yeah. It isn’t a fight if only one person is hitting. That’s just...hurting.”

“...But I don’t wanna fight you. _Or_ hurt you, neither.” Flipflop insisted as they exited a subway tunnel. Isabel’s tired eyes lit up for a moment and creased with a hesitant grin.

“I feel the same way,” She planted a small peck on the top of his head and set him back on the ground. “Sorry, my arms are getting tired.”

\---

The train tracks faded into dirt as she walked onward, hands stuffed in her jacket pockets and grasping her phone. Isabel peered at the passing yellow brick windows of her house as she pulled her jacket closer. Swirls of neon blues and reds and greens reflected in its leather creases and polluted the perfect black of the starry sky. Mayview looked like such a big city at night, with all the lights.

 _You think this is a big city?_ Max would say with one eyebrow raised. _You should see Baxborough._

The backlit keypad on her phone beeped a little too loud in the quiet night, and she spared a quick glance at the bright squares shrinking deeper into the trees.

 _I’m already in trouble,_ _it’s not gonna matter if I’m home or not. He won’t exactly be losing sleep over it._

She’d raised the receiver to her ear quicker than she could walk. The first, second, third ring held her breath firm. And then there was a click.

“Are you _ki-i-i-dding_ me..?” Max yawned.

"Hey!" Isabel chirped, the cuffs of her pajama pants dragging along the dark road.

"Heyyy…” Some shuffling movement came from Max’s end, no doubt wiping his eyes.

"You in the area?"

"Yeah, ‘m'asleep." He spoke slightly clearer as the warmth of sleep faded. "I’m like, always in the area. There’s a barrier. You can’t really leave the area."

"O-oh, duh,” She gave a short, sheepish laugh. “Right.”

The line fell dead for a moment as she darted out the radius of a passing cars high beams. She pressed on. "...Max?"

Max simply hummed.

"Max."

"I’m awake-"

"...Can I come over?" She asked, voice quieter, hands balled tighter.

"...Uh," Max said.

"I’m sorry, I wouldn't ask, normally, but," A millisecond hesitation, before her words all spilled out in a frenzy. "B-but I'll make it up to you, okay? I’m sorry about waking you, I know it’s weird."

She heard fabric shifting over fabric, Max groaning as he raised up. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ll unlock the door, just-”

“No, that’s okay!” She said, “Flipflop’s with me, so-”

“Isabel, I’m opening the freaking door, you’re not getting in my house in your paranormal hedonist way.” A creak of springs punctuated him. “I’m assuming you need a place to crash.”

She hummed in affirmation.

"...Wow, am I speaking to Isabel Guerra? The covergirl of _Vague_ magazine?" He said.

“I’ll tell you later, okay…?” Her sneakers kicked pebbles across the lamplit sidewalk. "My grandpa has officially lost his mind." She said with a heaving sigh, and hung up.

\---

Isabel walked the rest of her trek in silence. Mayview seemed to fall asleep after 9 pm--even on Friday nights like these--every noise she made seemed amplified by a hundred. Even the spirits and ghosts seemed compelled by the curfew. The only sounds of the town tonight were a car passing, the agitated stir of granite underfoot as she darted away from the light, and sirens across the hills. Perhaps the still was from the biting cold of night time that made her huddle the jacket closer. Ahead of her the road bisected, little creatures could be seen curled around the roadside crosses sprouting from the dirt. They seemed to gravitate to wherever people were. As Isabel ventured to the left road, something under her shoe gave, and she looked down in surprise.

A toad’s eye--basketball sized--blinked up at her in curiosity. The road stretching to the left was elevated in a small, asphalt coated hill. The potholes breathed in-breathed out, the cracks in the road stirred and a leg lifted briefly, she had walked all over a poor napping giant.

“Oh!” Isabel yelped. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Tiptoeing around the rudely awoken creature, she scanned a lining of trees down the hill. Just between the branches, they disappeared into a well lit clearing, a thin sidewalk snaking out of her sight.

_Downhill. Through the park._

The trees lining the road began to thin and yellow patterns peeked through the gaps in the leaves. The gravel grew smoother and the dark grew smaller. She slipped between the tree line almost like a secret, although nobody was watching, there was still the small rush of sneaking into someplace empty. The few lights still lit in the park guided her to a dark waypoint far off in her vision. Little stars of house lights speckled across it and she let herself relax into a small grin. This would be her shortcut to--

“Oh, so the gal finally shows up.”

_Johnny._


	8. The Woman On Mars

Isabel jumped, flipped to face him, wide eyed and fists clenched.

“Too bad, thought ya chickened out.” He crossed his arms and leaned against a pole.

“I-” Her voice is small in the playground, “I forgot we-”

“You-” He sputtered. “You _what!?”_

She said nothing, just glared.

“What the heck!? You can’t just blow off a fight! Jus’ ‘cause you think you’re better than everyone don’t mean-”

Her hair seemed to fly as she leaned into his space, “Don’t you _dare-_ ” She bit her lip as if to pull herself back, “I’m not better than anyone.”

Then his eye caught the leather jacket draped all frumpy over her shoulders, and the clothes underneath. A rosy pink shirt with puppies and flowers on it. A pair of baggy fleece pants, bow tied, with the cuffs all ratty from being dragged through the dirt. When he came up to her face, her eyes were...not bright, not seething. Darker and more worn than the black soles of a ruined, hole-dotted pair of sneakers.

He squinted at her, and she squinted back in confusion.

“Uh.” he said, then stopped when the jackets zipper caught a bright light from a faraway red planet.

 _“Like Mars-”_ Stephen would say, _“-didja see the woman on Mars? I showed her to you right? She’s in a dress and walking across this plateau. It was from the Spirit rover.”_

Johnny began again when Isabel narrowed her eyes at him, “What are you-” He caught the stupid words before more of them came out, “Are you in pajamas?”

She straightened in surprise and looked over her own outfit.

“It’s...a long story?” She said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“You look like a wreck-”

“Oh, wow, thanks. Don’t make me blush.”

“-what happened?”

At this, she hesitated, both in surprise and apprehension.

“...I got in a fight.” She twirled a flyaway string on his jacket sleeve, eyes dark enough to be cut from the sky. “And I forgot we were supposed to meet here. I came here ‘cause it’s a shortcut to-” Her mouth zipped eight words too late, and she frowned in a small panic. “...Max’s house.”

“...Someone picked a fight with you.” He said, something cold springing in his gut. He masked it poorly, and asked weakly, “Do I know ‘em?”

“No-” She groaned and breezed past his shoulder,  “-you don’t want to.”

She strolled to the swingset, so pointedly avoidant that Johnny didn’t even think to grab for his jacket. She was two paces away and kicking to swing back and forth before the idea even flickered in his mind.

Isabel curled her fingers around the chainlinks as an anchor, her voice worn and too small to be coming from her lips, “I think I’m all fought out for the night.”

He helplessly followed her footprints and stopped before the broken, bad swing. There was no seat for him beside her but because she would not look up he opted to kneel in the dirt, squinting at her soft outline in the low-light. One knee in the dirt, the other propped his hand. A hollow sputter of smoke unfurled as he unclenched his fist, it was the same hollow feeling of a sparkler sitting dead on the street outside his house. The plate of food on the dinner table had been left to go cold. The pillow gave just a bit too much under his knuckles.

_Guerra’s got no fight in her._

Her eyes were brown and soft and heavy, “Can we tussle another time?”

He clenched his fist on his knee, to get blood pumping through them and ward off the cold air. Teeth gnashed as he set his jaw resolutely.

“Only if you tell me-” Johnny looked up to face her, “-what the _hell-”_ finger jabbed in her face, “-you did with Guerra.”

She scowled at this, dark brows cinched in the center, and Johnny’s chest warmed from seeing the bite return in her eyes for a second. Then she dropped again as if the energy of fooling them both had taken too much out of her, even her fingers began to unwind from the swing chains. She spoke almost apologetically,

“You’re really not being funny.”

He stared firm. “Hit me.”

"It’s _nothing_." She closed her eyes and sighed a frustrated sigh, "I called someone things, and he called me things, and stuff happened,” Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the chain link swing, everything else about her timidly still. “It was loud, and I left, and now I’m here, okay? I shouldn’t have forgotten."

“Didja…” Johnny tilted his head vaguely and pressed his knuckles in his palm, “Y’know?”

" _No_ ," She groaned, and ducked her head down.

“I was being dumb and I forgot, and it’s none of your business, so just _forget_ about it, okay?” Her shoulders lifted and fell for the time it took for a lone car to pass down the street, and into dark. And for the first time ever, she said to him

"I’m sorry...

...can we talk about this later, please? It’s weird."

"What’s weird?" Johnny asked.

Isabel blinked, red curling around her eyelashes. Then looked ahead, fists balled in her lap, hair in curtains around her cheeks.

"You." she said.


	9. A Close Encounter Of The Fourth Kind

“Wanna head home?” Johnny said as he nodded his head to the back way, Isabel’s swinging had slowed from pendulumic to a skipping heartbeat. Isabel frowned and looked through red mist to his faded face.

“I guess so.” She said.

And for once, they sat silently in each others company, finding nothing to pick on, nothing to sneer at, nothing to shout. The squeaking of the rusty chain, and the hum of cars on highways driving into forever, and little heartbeats droned on into the night. The children’s eyelids weighed heavier and street lamps clouded into copper pennies that shone bright against the black blanket sky. Cocoons of stolen jacket and a band t shirt melded around them as blankets would at bedtime.

Some loud cry, like a bird, thundered above them.

“WHAT THE-” Johnny screeched.

Isabel whipped her head around to see Johnny’s ratty boots kicking into the air. She lurched forward and seized his ankle, spitting her hair from her mouth as she felt herself lift off the seat.

“LEMME GO!”

Isabel glanced up at the thundering sky, only to see a row of gnashing white teeth above Johnny’s head. Her stomach plummeted.

“Johnny-” Isabel narrowly dodged his kicking boot, “-stay still-” Red fingers clamped around his leg as she hooked her arm around the pole.

“LEMME-” Johnny shrieked in panic, his voice to the sky as he desperately tried to hurl a right hook at whatever thing had clamped its teeth to the back of his shirt. “LEMME GO YOU WEIRD FREAKIN’-”

Isabel cried out as her arm gave way and the two of them were lifted higher in the air. Her brain jolted a rush of fear as her feet and the ground grew further apart, sending her kicking and dangling precariously from Johnny’s ankle.

“GONNA RIP YOUR FACE RIGHT OFF YOUR-”

As Johnny shouted expletives at their kidnapper, that classic bulb of fear rooted itself in her chest. The same one she remembered from being hit so hard the wind left her lungs, from being yanked upwards by fingers around her ponytail, the bulb that sprouted daisies when that large shadow leaned so far over her the lights went dark-

“YOU SONOFA-”

-she would grind it into the dirt if she could-

“-OW-”

_-if dirt weren’t so far away-_

“-GUERRA-”

Her eyes flew open to see it was just as dark outside her eyelids as inside, Mayview forests were yawning to engulf them and bark clawed at her legs and sides. The trees sprouted tall, if Johnny kept up his fight and Isabel didn’t act fast, they’d fall into sharp branches and the sharper flat of the ground. Steeling herself, she tightened her grip around his ankle.

 _Easy now,_ She tried to force air in her lungs, _You’ve been in this sitch before-_

Johnny kicked and her fingers came loose. For a second, she was weightless, stomach floating like a helium balloon in her gut. Then, in blind hope it would catch, she snatched her umbrella off her back and swung the handle up. It hooked around Johnny’s combat boot.

_Got it-_

It slipped and sent her plummeting.

_-NO-_

The next second she was slipping through the fingers of the trees. Their long nails cut at her jacket and tangled in her hair, cruelly letting her fall through the cracks. She crashed onto the ground, red spikes of pain shooting through her back that for a second flashed white-hot. Eyes squeezed shut, wind out of her lungs, pulse thrumming in her eardrums blocking sounds of the teeming town from being heard.

 _But Johnny is still up there,_ said something small in her brain. She tried to gulp in little gasps of air, but none fell deep enough to reach her lungs.

_Don’t get hurt. It doesn’t hurt._

Reluctantly, she forced her eyes open and saw stars peeking through the canopy of leaves that looked so pretty but still had let her fall. Night skies seeped breath back in her chest. Mayview sounds ventured, almost with a shyness, back to her ears. The pulsing ceased.

Johnny, growing ever further, called for her. Isabel hurtled back into her senses and scrambled to her feet, head still swimming with ache from the fall, and damp cool dirt tarnishing the puppies on her shirt. She hugged the jacket close and ran in an uneasy zigzag between the trees.

_You’re really off your game tonight. Can’t let Johnny get hurt, he barely knows how to control his energy, he walks around like he just lit his face on a tinderbox._

The trees thinned out to reveal a bright starry sky that she scanned frantically for Johnny’s stupid kicking form. If the trees were clearing, they must have been closer to buildings, or a road, maybe he’d already fallen somewhere-

“ISABEL!”

Cadmium red hair flashed in the light of a street lamp down the road. The lamp bordered a roundabout decorated with dark blotches of trees; this was the front entrance to the park. Johnny’s face was a white freckled mask of wide-eyed fear. He was grabbing desperately with one hand on the shirt collar that wrinkled in a choke-hold around his neck. His other hand stretched behind his head to beat an awkward punch into the maw of a-

_-Velociraptor ?-_

Isabel sprinted after him. There was no telling when that thing could drop Johnny and it was much higher than it had been when she’d fallen-it could drop him in an hour or in a second.

She flexed her wrist in small circles. The red energy flared in a current down her arm, with a slight churning sensation in her gut she raised her arm up and aligned it in her center of vision. Her index followed Johnny’s red-head target in a slow arc.

 _Go a little ahead, that’s it._ Her aim moved past him,

 _Then higher, cause it likes to arc,_ She aimed above,

_You’ll thank me later-_

She squeezed her eyes shut, and the firework blasted off her hand leaving a red flash behind her eyelids. Sound cracked against her eardrums and she thanked everything that only spectrals could hear spirit phenomena--Some slicing, cutting, sharp cry split her eyes wide open. Through the cherry wisps from her fingers red fireworks dotted the place Johnny had just been. And Johnny was on the ground. The creature had spiraled several yards away, red dots of light still bouncing off its hide.

“Johnny!” Isabel shouted as she ran to his crumpled form.

For a moment he laid still, the most unmoving Isabel had ever seen him be. His legs were sprawled, one boot untied, the other dangling off his sole. Holes dotted the lining of his shirt collar. His cheek pressed against the ground, the red skin on his neck pulsing at an uneven rhythm, his brow was knotted in pain. She dropped to the dirt beside him with several nervous glances at the creature up ahead, sizing it up, jittery hands hovering over Johnny in an effort to straighten _anything_ out.

Maybe it wasn’t quite a velociraptor, but it was quite close to one; a sleek neck sprouting a beak-like mouth lined with sharp and even teeth, nervously long fingered talons clawing at the dirt.  A head, barely a lizard but barely a bird, coiled against the dirt, red tinted teeth leaving demarcations where-ever they touched. The pupils in the eyes were shiny and stagnant, the heavy brow formed a pronounced ridge along the crown, feathers softened into scale that was sharply protruded by a pair of horns cutting through the air. Forelimbs that began at the base as feathered wings dissipated into skeletal talons.

It had no lower half.

Where the ribcage ended was a large stump that oozed blue energy and twitched in a hungry fear.

She tore her eyes away--just for a second--and shook Johnny roughly by the shoulders.

“Isabel..?” Johnny groaned while shaking his head, which only spurred a grimace, and he blinked at her, then the raptor, in surprise. His eyes flashed yellow in retaliation, “Oh you are _dead--_ ”

“Don’t--” She began, only to be cut off by Johnny stumbling precariously to his feet.

“Hey, _turkey reject!_ ” Johnny shouted. “You wanna piece of me!?”

Hands flashed alight, Johnny charged at it with a tail of smoke in his wake. He skirted in a circle around the raptor, lashing a thread of flame across its snout, but the ribbon sprayed embers that forced Isabel to leap back. The raptor shrank between its feathered shoulder blades with a piercing shriek. Johnny’s bared teeth were underlit by his blazing hands.

Daringly, he lunged closer, fist throwing,

It sprang forward jaw wide

“Not so sharp now-”

It _CLACKED_ down

“-Are ya.”

on a puff of smoke

The needlepoint of Isabel’s umbrella poked into Johnny’s nose.

She glanced back at the creature, its pupils round and black, and its head followed them with an avian, steady, unfaltering motion. The residual light from Isabel’s energy reddened Johnny’s face. Cherry red forms danced in the velociraptors eyes. A low growl hummed.

Isabel grabbed his hand. “Don’t startle it.” She said.

Hand in hand, umbrella raised, the two stepped backward.

The velcro clasp on her umbrella tore open. With a metallic whine the red unfurled.

The growl became a bleeding spat. A beat of its feathered limps, it shot into the air, feathers flying, ultramarine curling. It threw its jaw wide open and in one mighty

_SNAP_

Its teeth bit into the bright red girl constructed above Isabel’s head. The body unraveled into christmas ribbons of her spectral energy and looped themselves around the shut jaw of the dinosaur.

One hand gripping Johnny and the other poorly collecting her umbrella, Isabel broke into a sprint towards the trees.

“How’s that spec stuff taste, freakazoid!?” Johnny shouted from behind her. Whistling pierced the air, she glanced over to see a rocket of flame explode by the raptor’s tail. “I’m servin’ seconds if ya mess with _Guh--”_

Isabel stuffed his face into the trunk of a tree.

 _Now it thinks it’s being cornered! Awesome!_ She thought, glancing past the foliage. _God, could you make your flames any brighter?_

Johnny’s hand was growing hotter by the second.

“ _What_ are you _doing_!?” Isabel groaned, relinquishing her hold with a smack to his shoulder. Johnny glowered at her and briefly lowered his fist.

“Duh, _fighting?_ You said you didn’t want to fight tonight!” Johnny said.

“So you’re gonna take it out on this!?”

“No! You _just said_ you didn’t wanna fight! So--” He faltered, his eyes darting to the ground. With a string of smoke leaving his mouth he turned his head gruffly to size up the raptor. He coughed, “--So, if you ain’t gonna fight it, then I will.”

Isabel blinked with surprise, brown eyes wide and shiny, her grip slack on his hand. But, it was barely a moment. She shook her head stubbornly.

“That’s stupid. I don’t need another newbie getting hurt-”

Johnny hurled a fistful of burning wood chips at the velociraptor. This apparently brought back bad memories of meteors, because it screeched and snapped its jaws in the air, twisting in coils like burning paper. Isabel pressed her hand over her eyes with a groan.

“Stop riling it up!” She said, “You’re freaking it out!”

“I can handle it!” Johnny had his teeth bared and fingers curled as if this would intimidate the thing into submission

Isabel stepped in his path once more, the puppies on her shirt were heart-meltingly brown eyed and static. Her own eyes etched with an iron scowl. Her fists tightened.

Johnny blinked and the corner of his mouth twitched in confusion.

She hooked her arm through the smoke clouding his head.

“HEY-”

She latched her other arm on her elbow, trapping the scrambling boy in a headlock. He shouted curse words and his kicking feet left a scattered trail through the dirt.

“ _You’re_ the one draggin’ me from a fight huh?”

“Where’s the real Guerra!?”

“Have I been talkin’ to a-”

Isabel let her arms fall. Johnny fell backwards in a heap at her feet. Her hair draped down in wavy curtains and she was pressing her hands over her face. Wafts and cascades of cherry red pulsed out of her, like raging car lights, like the sun peeking through the clouds on Venus, like lasers pointed directly in his eyes.

Her voice was small behind her hands.

“You don’t need to fight every spirit you meet.”

“It tried chewin’ our heads off, what the heck am i supposed to-”

“I don’t want _you_ to get hurt and I don’t want _it_ to get hurt, okay?”

If it weren’t for the quiet of Mayview at night, Johnny would have missed the shaky intake of her breath.

“I’m not being meek...I’m not being scared...Any other night, and I swear it would be fine, but...”

But she trailed off. He pushed himself in a sitting position, rubbing the back of his head. Small plumes of dust clouds came when he brushed his fingers across the gelled spikes.

“You’re tellin’ me to do _nothing._ ”

“Please.”

Johnny sat in the dirt for a moment chewing the inside of his cheek. The distant squawking of the raptor could be heard, the hairlike scrape of its feathers sweeping the dust up in clouds, ultramarine blue steamed from its missing half. He turned to look up at her, a rude remark in his mouth, only to find her wiping her eyes.

Johnny’s mouth parted in surprise, the retort dissipating in steam, and some sharp stab of instinct flashing in his gut.

She peeked, eyes shining, through her fingers.

“Ah,” Johnny uttered, finally closing his mouth. “Okay,”

Isabel gave him a weak glare-and a sniffle-letting her bangs fell into a disheveled frame around her face. She held out her hand, in spite of her tone, with a thankful cast of her eyes.

“Thanks, hothead.”


	10. Jersey Devils

Their stroll through the park was painfully silent for a painful few moments. Isabel walked with her eyes locked on her feet, glancing Johnny’s way each time he snuck a glance at her. It was as if she had broken into a billion sharp pieces that he was tiptoeing around. On their sixteenth-or-seventeenth glance she parted her lips and laughed quietly.

Johnny started. The laugh was more mirthless sound than actual joy.

She finally spoke, a smile as a defense mechanism, wiping her eyes. “Sorry you had to see that.”

Johnny paid her a worrisome glance. “I-uh-didn't mean to make you…I mean I’m-”

Isabel did nothing to bridge his pause, only tugged his jacket closer defensively.

He scratched his ear. “Sorry. That wasn’t cool.”

Brown eyes shone red as she peeked at him through her hair. For an instant her energy seemed brighter than the last, sun peeking through the gaps of cloud-cover, before it desaturated.

“Just don’t be such a jerk. I’ve got enough of those.” She said. Her smile wavered with a sniffle. “I like you better when we fight...on the same page...y’know?”

He perked up a bit at this, still worried but less so. “Me too.” He said.

And they held each other’s gaze in warmth and comfort for a moment.

When suddenly

_SCCRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE_

Two rows of teeth lurched down from the sky. Isabel leapt back and Johnny cried out in surprise. Looking up, it’s movements were too frantic to discern any detail besides glimmering fangs, sail shaped crest, flurries of feather, and deep ultramarine blue. Johnny and Isabel grabbed for each others hands and darted out of its range.

“What the heck!? I thought we ditched you!” Johnny shouted above the bird-like cries.

“Wait,” Isabel squeezed his hand, peering intently and taking small steps backward. “That’s not-”

Johnny shot forward with hands flashing hot. Isabel squeezed his hand harder on instinct. He turned back to her, eye to eye, sudden recognition all on his face.

Isabel frowned.

“Right,” Johnny said almost sheepishly.

She pulled him back much more gently than she had the first time, at least, it was gentle for them. Tandemly, they paced back.

“That’s not the same one.” Isabel hushed so not to frighten it with her voice. “The other one had horns. And you see the nose?”

“...Shapeshifter?” Johnny said in an effort to sound educated, “D’you have those?”

“Yeah, but…..this is definitely not the one we saw earlier…” She mused.

This new raptor screamed it’s cry at them while they stood on looking from afar. It beat winged forelimbs that upon closer look sprouted short talons, slashing crescents into the dirt, slicing the air in futility. In the seconds it rocketed in the air it would call out again only to crash helplessly into the dirt. There was a moment of silence.

A call pierced the night air.

Isabel’s eyes widened in recognition and she met Johnny’s eyes.

“Johnny!” She smiled with eyes sunny for the first time he had seen that night.

“Fight?” Johnny asked, his smile equally welcoming.

“Not quite.”

“Oh.”

She pulled him away from the scene by the hand and took him by the shoulders.

“We gotta put them back together.”

“We-” He swiveled to see the raptor enveloped by ultramarine energy, “-oooooh.”

Isabel took his face in her hands, rattling his head up and down.

“ _Don’t_ frighten it.” She commanded.

Johnny nodded as best he could.

“Great, come on!” She seized his hand and bolted across the clearing.

The street lamps dotting the park were the only guide Isabel had in navigating back to where she had come from. In their previous commotion all she remembered was tall trees bordering this clearing against the next. But as they retraced their steps the details flew back through the dark; burns, sheltering lamplights, tree trunks, playground. Where Johnny had lashed licks of flame, where she’d dragged him through the dirt, where…

_SHRIEK_

“Is that it!?” Johnny yelled.

It was, but it was not where she’d left it.

Its energy turned the light in their eyes into a stoplight green that told them _Go_. Illuminated from below, the raptor’s glassy eyes shone emerald, its great wings like a flowering jungle. Two rows of teeth yawned in a scream for its other half.

It clung to the head of the streetlamp desperate and unreachable. Isabel felt her heart sink. It looked so lonely.

“You poor thing...” She murmured to the sky, “How did you get stuck up there?”

For a moment she just gazed at the raptor with that same shiny eyed look--until she caught Johnny staring quizzically--then she cast her eyes down and broke her hand away. He scratched his nose awkwardly.

He squinted up at it, “So you wanna get this one down?”

Isabel nodded.

As guesswork, Johnny tried whistling with his two fingers.

The raptor snapped its head down at them, cocking its head sideways in curiosity. It’s glassy stare seemed to scan them for any sign of familiarity or prey but it seemed to find nothing. Not even a blink had been spared for them before it returned to throwing its cry across the park.

“It forgot us already? God, this things dumb.” Johnny muttered.

“I think it just doesn’t see us as a threat right now, is all,” Her hand gripped Johnny’s shoulder suddenly, “And I wanna keep it that way.”

Johnny rolled his eyes, “I wasn’t gonna do nothin’.”

”Good,” She said, patting his hair absently as she assessed the crying raptor. “I don’t need a second kidnapping.”

Eventually, her fingers came to restlessly fidget with the gelled spikes on his head. It was that same twirling motion she repeated endlessly with the stray thread hanging from his jacket sleeve--those little figure-eights--whenever she was coming up with something.

_It’s like a cat stuck in a tree…spec shots will only scare it into attacking, but on the other hand how will we…?_

Johnny blinked slowly as his head tilted to the side with eyes blurry and unfocused. Then, all at once, his chin snapped up and he shot her a confused stare. In the green light his pink face was imperceptible.

His stare cut through the reverie she’d been caught in and she blinked at him in equal surprise. Her brown eyes shone like stars.

Johnny bristled, shrugging her hand away with an exaggerated flail.

_Oh._

“Oh.” Isabel said.

Her eyes flew wide with a gasp.

 _Oh!_.

“Whuh-What?” Johnny asked. His tone was sharp but his scowl was already being tugged into an excitable grin, eyes warming, from seeing the look on her face.

“Your hair, Johnny!” Isabel declared. “It was drawn to the red in your hair!”

“For real?”

“And my energy! We can draw it down if I flare up!”

The air around her quavered into skies of bright red clouds, gardens of roses, fields of poppies. Her fists pumped and her eyes gleamed with new determination that swelled in red torrents all around her form. She lit up almost like she were a flare in the dark so bright that Johnny was forced to step back.

The black of Johnny’s jacket on her shoulders was a bright burning red. Isabel had decorated the whole scene as if it were Christmas.

“Come on!” Isabel coaxed to the raptor with both hands cupping her mouth.

It quirked its head at her with feathers twitching.

Isabel called a second time, “Come on! We found your friend!”

The raptor extended and rescinded its wings slowly, as if in consideration.

She took hurried paces towards the direction the raptor’s call had come from with a comet’s tail of red trailing behind her.

Unable to contain itself, the raptor propelled off the lamp post with a beat of its thinly feathered wings.

“Hey!” Johnny cried, swiftly jumping out of the radius of its maw. “You wanna go for round two? I don’t think so!”

As they lured the raptor back to the trees, Isabel tried to conceal the grin tugging at her mouth, but Johnny reddened when he noticed.

“D’you think you can wrangle the other one?”

Johnny blinked.

And his teeth shone in a wicked grin. His gray energy and smoke began to thrum in jagged patterns, agitated and competitive, at the unexpected challenge.

“You got it!” He called over his shoulder, running through the thin trees in search of the second raptor.

Watching him run, something settled in Isabel that brought her grin back for a passing second. It disappeared quickly, replaced by her brow stressing in the focus of not falling in the path of the darting predator she was guiding, and the wear in her eyes returned.

_Max must be worried._

Left foot crossing over right, squawks from the raptor.

_What’s with you? Crying?_

Cringing from the memory sparked the red in her energy to brighten. The raptor’s glass gaze beamed like a bonfire. Small stars of light danced in its eyes. Like firelight.

_Is he--_

She whirled around in spite of better judgement.

“Johnny! Are you--” She called.

From between the trees, Johnny stood cupping a small flame in his hands. The flex of his wrist suggested he had been juggling it like a ball.

“What?” He said, taking his glance from the other spirit. It had fixated on the firelight in the same way a playful cat would.

Isabel deflated with relief, returning her attention to her own spirit.

“Nothing,” She said, quickly losing breath with this backwards dance. “Stay close, I’m gonna try something.”

The fire sputtered out in his hands as he jogged to her side, curiosity piqued.

“Is it still looking at you?” She asked.

“Uh,” He muttered, “Yeah, you?”

Isabel’s eyes were locked with the raptor. Eye contact with animalistic spirits was only sometimes a good idea, but she needed its attention fixed on her, not her energy.

“Isabel, it’s-” Johnny’s temperature spiked enough that she could feel the nerves tinge his voice, “-It’s _really_ lookin’.”

Her raptor spread its wings, ultramarine energy a curling backdrop of the vibrant feathers. Only in this stillness did Isabel see the eyes hidden within the feathering.

The raptor seemed to freeze with mouth parted open.

They locked hands. A pause of silence blanketed the scene.

“Now!” Isabel hushed and yanked him in a leap to the right.

A burst of smoke. Two flashes of red and two of blue. Feathers cut in the night air with a sharp cry. Tree bark scraped against Isabel’s jacket.

She and Johnny had their backs pressed against a tree when she opened her eyes. He was coughing and grinning wide, exhilarated. Johnny’s shoulder was warm against hers as she peeked past the trunk.

The spirit’s bright blue energy transformed their reunion into an ultramarine fresco. With the adrenaline and anxiety fading, Isabel finally had a clean look at their forms. Similar, but not altogether identical, crested beaks and horned brows and thinly feathered forelimbs batted each other in curiosity. Their squawks had quieted to chirps as they sniffed and pruned feathers intently.

In a burst of clarity, they launched themselves into the air with an ecstatic beat of wings. They fluttered in an alternating, twirling rhythm that kept them hovering in the others company for a moment. The chirping could almost be birdsong. Blue enveloped them in a flurry of ribbon as they spun. One second they were apart, the next, they were together again.

The children broke into smiles of relief.

The two laughed lightheartedly, pounding fists and pulling each other into a battle hug. Laughter bubbled from their chests like boiling water had just been taken off the stove, energy escaping, slowly simmering down.

Isabel shut her eyes, listening to the overjoyed call of the newly joined spirits overhead, unconsciously settling in Johnny’s arms.

She sighed.

_Warm._

Maybe it was a hug; the thing she had needed all night.

Johnny’s voice was at her ear, “...Isabel?”

Isabel hummed.

His hands stirred around her, the embrace loosened as he moved to look at her face.

Gently, reluctantly, she relinquished her head from his shoulder. The cold was seeping back in. Time had to move forward.

She pulled the jacket more tightly around her as if to preserve some of the warm hug. His hands cradled her elbows momentarily, a small squeeze, before letting go.

Johnny stuffed his hands in his pockets. The drone of a passing cars motor punctuated their quiet. Catching her eye, he nodded to the sidewalk on the other end of the park once more. She peeked at him through dark bangs, a small and tired bundle of jacket that swayed slightly with sleep.

He waited to walk until she came to his side. The silence between them was only broken by the scuff of their shoes on the ground, it held both of them captive in a lull of rarity, of peace.

They walked in the comforting quiet for nearly a block, before-

“Are you, uh,” Johnny coughed, “...gonna be okay?”

Isabel looked up from the dark road, glanced at him, then averted her eyes again. She folded her arms around herself tightly as if to protect from a sudden chill. Her lips parted as if to speak in a quipped, inconclusive way, but she just hummed.

“I dunno.” She murmured. “But...thank you.”

She dared a glance, but to her dismay found Johnny staring right back at her.

_Stop that._

“I...I just... _really-_ ” She said it with that same mirthless, hollow laugh. “-don’t wanna think about tomorrow.”

Johnny hummed in response.

His face was….softened, and plained. His mouth was even closed thoughtfully.

“You can…uh,” He began unsteadily. ”I mean, if you--”

His hand reflexively clenched and unclenched.

“It don’t gotta be tomorrow. You can keep that a couple more days.” He said.

A wipe of his nose. “If you want.”

“That’s not what I’m-” Isabel began, edge in her voice. But then her face dropped.

“Oh.” She said.

All of Mayview seemed warm. She was walking on air, suddenly, no longer the cold dirt.

Her eyes trailed to the dark spaces between the forest trees, and to distant yellow lights beyond them. She fiddled with the zipper in thought, stoplight red roses bloomed from the jacket’s wrinkles and red petals of energy mingled with her eyelashes. Just as he opened his mouth, she turned to him;

“...I’ll...give this back to you. On Friday.”

“Oh,” His mouth floundered for a second, and then he nodded, “Y-yeah. Sure, yeah. Awesome.”

She stuffed her hands in her pockets before he continued, his words catching in his throat, “B-but wait, you swear you’ll give it back? Real talk, no take-backs, swear?”

Their stroll arrived at a halt beneath a cozy yellow streetlamp. The low light cast broad shadows across Isabel’s face, hiding her eyes to anybody not willing to look closely, and the corona washed her energy into an orange shade. Even the constant hum from the highway had fallen silent. She nodded up, eyes warm and red christmas fires, and she held out her hand to him.

“I swear on my grandfather’s life,” She declared, “You’ll get it back. I’ll have you meet me under the flagpole before first period.”

He just stared for a beat, skepticism and shock and staying up too late muddled his response into a puff of smoke. A cough of smoke, specifically. Losing her own patience, she seized his hand with a firm squeeze, a roll of her eyes, and a hesitant grin.

Johnny squeezed back. It was a poor excuse for a handshake but, then again, nothing that night had gone the way they had meant it to.

“Deal.”

Johnny smirked with smug satisfaction. Their hands still were clasped.

“Hey,” Isabel reached to muss his hair with her free hand, “What’s that look?”

He squirmed, waving her hand off with a smile. “Your ‘Friday’ is probably like, friday in ten years, huh?”

_Dumb gnarly teeth. Dumb stupid snaggle teeth._

She glanced away. “I’ll get bored of it by then.”

_Sticky hair gel and freckles._

“Naaaah.” He snickered, “You like that thing too much.”

_Smiling like you’re not the biggest dummy._

It was a passing instance of quiet after his reply.

Petals of red roses bloomed from her face.

When Isabel squeezed his hand, he glanced down.

As he looked up she was pulling him close.

Isabel’s eyelids were colored raspberry.

Johnny’s freckles were crackling embers.

It was purely closeness, their noses bumped but they both pressed through.

Then she pulled away.

Johnny gazed at her, awestruck eyes to comforting dark, as if she were bright and new. His mouth dropped slightly and the air on their cheeks heated in cherry red.

_That’s more like it._

Where she’d just stood was cold, the space in Johnny’s hand was cold, her shoes beat on against the gravel.

_Please please please don’t tell anyone._

Johnny was frozen, staring at the trees that were behind her, his hand still partially held out. Then he whirled to look after her.

The swing of her hair caught sunsets in the glow of lamp lights, the same way his jacket caught light in the dark, and Johnny watched it in wonder long enough that she nearly was indistinguishable from the curling energies of spirits surrounding the scene.

Because it looks cool.

“Isabel!” Johnny called.

She stopped and turned, tucking a flyaway behind her ear.

The rosiness of her cheeks shone in the dark like the setting sun.

“Uh.” His throat caught and the back of his tongue burned. “Thanks.”

Isabel cinched her brow and peered at him, “...Huh?”

Johnny rolled his eyes and groaned, biting back a cough of smoke that escaped through his ears into the cool night air. “For the-”

His hands flailed in some strange gesture at the space between them, then to the trees, then to the black sky. With every second her face bloomed in a wider grin. She practically glowed in the night.

“Y’know-the...the duh-” His hands dropped, open and smoking with nerves. “-the...spirit stuff.”

A nervous giggle escaped that made her cover her face. Johnny found that he couldn’t stop staring, gentle heat thrummed from his hands, and his throat tasted of lit matches. Every movement she made seemed graceful, the apples of her cheeks, curl of her hair, or the flutter of her eyes. She peeked through her bangs with a poorly masked grin.

Isabel popped her collar- no, his collar- and winked. “Even-Steven.”


	11. The Umbrella Girl

In a tower of heads, the gang peeked around the corner of the school building to assess the slight frame of the girl swinging her legs on a lunch table bench.  She looked over both shoulders occasionally, made contemplative glances up the flagless flagpole, then twirled one of her pigtails in thought. Isabel Guerra was jacketless. She was jacketless and more terrifying than ever.

“Dude,” Stephen hissed in the shadows. “She’s gonna shoot ya.”

Ollie snorted, “Oh, shoot him with what? Her umbrella?”

“Yes, exactly! With her umbrella!” Stephen waved his hands at Isabel’s faraway form by the flagpole, eyes wide and scar zigzagged. “That’s how they got JFK, y’know! He was cruisin’ with his girl and the Umbrella Man opened it up an’ _BAM!_ ” The thunderous clap of his hands made RJ jump.

Johnny scratched at his ear with his pinkie and grimaced, “Steph, I’m fer serious, she ain’t-” Stephen seized Johnny’s ear-scratching hand, flicked the earwax off his finger, and shook his arm violently.

“My dude, I’m tellin’ you-” Stephen said, eye to conspiratorial eye, “Johns and umbrellas _do not mix._ ”

Johnny opened his mouth but was shushed as Stephen rifled through his backpack, multi-colored funsheets raining to the floor. They flew out like a flock of tropical birds as he yanked something from the bag’s cavernous contents. The air cleared to reveal a poster sized coffee table book held high in Stephen’s proud hands.

Then he dropped the bag carelessly and began stuffing the folio up Johnny’s shirt.

“Whuh-” Johnny sputtered, “What the- _Steph_ -”

Once the book stuck securely, Stephen stepped back and knocked his knuckles on the hardcover with satisfaction. Johnny appeared to be exactly what he was-an idiot with a book shoved up his shirt.

“Looks good!” Stephen said brightly. “That’s for the magic bullets. Maybe the punches, too, but mostly the bullets.”

Johnny stood stiff and agape, then turned robotically to Ollie and RJ. Ollie squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his temple. RJ flashed him a nervous thumbs-up and shooed him off. The cumbersome book forced him to cross his arms tightly as he shuffled across the concrete.

Watching her sit beneath the flagpole, black hair shining, it was like he had pulled a rope that filled his face with hot air. Her fingers toyed with the sleeve of her sweater and the curls of her hair because without the jacket she had nothing to mess with, her busy thoughts locked her eyes on the clouds sweeping across the blue. Their eyes met.

The air had changed between them-

“Hi, Johnny.”

“Hey, Isabel.”

-were their first words.

“How’s your head?”

“Hurts. No thanks to you.”

“No thanks to me? Without me you’d be in a spirits nest being fed to her babies”

Johnny responded only with a grin.

“Didja get to Max’s okay?” He asked.

Her eyes warmed. “Yeah. Didn’t meet any other jerks.”

Johnny’s arms uncrossed and he hooked his thumb on his pocket. His face buzzed with warmth, and Isabel’s teasing grin was all rosy. They were locked in a stalemate, both with comebacks at the ready if the other pointed out their reddened faces.

“So...where is it?” Johnny asked, finally opting to surrender.

She smiled, folded her hands behind her back, and craned her head to the sky.

Johnny followed her gaze.

And Johnny let out a scream.

“What kinda _COLD HEARTED WITCH ARE-_ "

His scream had scared birds from their perches. Onlooking students raised their eyebrows and whispered towards the pair from the school steps.

"-You _SWORE_ on the life of a _FAMILY MEMBER!_ ”

"Oh?” Isabel chirped. “No, he’s dead."

“Wh--? _Whuh--_ " Johnny sputtered helplessly.

"He’s a ghost, loser!" Her smile was gleefully mean.

" _GUERRA._ "

"Why are you mad? I think it’s honorable." She smiled innocently.

"I STILL DON’T HAVE IT BACK!" Johnny gestured at himself wildly.

"You can get it down at any time, dude, it’s all yours."

“HOW’M I SUPPOSED TA-” The book in his shirt began to slip, and he pressed it to his chest, cutting himself off with a groan. His narrowed eyes were half glare and half beg, “You _better_ show me how to do it.”

She poked his nose. “Not if you ask like that.”

Johnny leaned to be at her eye level.

“What if I give you a kiss, huh?”

Isabel froze. Her brown eyes shone large and shiny. Everything around her turned red as her energy exploded around her. Johnny’s mouth quivered into a grin at the sight of her rose red face.

“Huh-” She gasped.

His grin was gleefully mean.

“-N-no, you _dummy-_ ” She shook her head in a frenzy and pressed her hands against her cheeks, “-That’s not _fair!_ ”

Johnny leaned back and snickered as she covered her face, peeking through her fingers to glare at him.

“I had to catch ya off guard somehow.”

“Low blow. I might just keep your jacket forever, now.” She taunted.

“Hey!” He reached out and shoved her shoulder. She nudged back with a teasing grin.

Somewhere, the bell must have rung, but neither paid it any mind.

They followed the flagpole upward and watched the wind pull and push at the jackets folds, lifting it into the air before it fell back down again, curling across the current. It came to rest on a gentle breeze, as if it hung on a clothesline after laundry day had finished. Johnny squinted at the jacket billowing in the sun, then at Isabel’s blush behind the hair in her face. He cracked a smile.

“Ya just can’t lemme win, can you?”

“Nope.” She tucked the flyaways behind her ear.

She grinned and slugged him lightly in the stomach, the grin dropping to surprise as knuckles met hardbound book. Johnny’s face turned white as it tumbled out of his shirt, Isabel jumped back as it landed-

_WAP_

-on the cement. Her head snapped up to catch his glance, then down to catch the book. Taking a tentative step closer, she knelt and flipped it over. _Mysteries of the Unexplained._ She broke out into giggles as she handed it back to him.

“I thought you said reading was boring.”

“That ain’t mine!” Johnny puffed out his chest, “And, it is boring.”

She just raised her eyebrows, clearly not buying it, but indulging the statement anyway. She grabbed for the thick rope of the flagpole as Johnny tucked the book under his arm.

“I’ll read you my books sometime.” She said, pointing to the second rope, “Grab that one.”

“The Atlantis book?” Johnny said, complying. “Sure.”

Turns out, Isabel had not worked any of her magic to string his jacket so high on the flag pole. It was simply a matter of pulling and gripping the rope. Some wave of fire surged in Johnny’s chest as he reached for the left sleeve. Isabel reached up and unclipped both the carabiners she had secured it with. He broke into a grin as the heavy fabric fell into his hands.

As he pulled it on, some unplaceable expression crossed Isabel’s face, that far away night sky daze in her eyes. Pulling it on, he noted something...new. A flowery smell about the jacket. It brought him to cozy lamps, rosy faced smiles, candlelight.

”Isabel?”

“Hm?”

“...Why’d you give it back all of a sudden?”

She hesitated for a moment, crimping a strand of hair in thought. Then, she smiled at him, it was small and slight but it glowed. He slowly returned it.

“I feel a bit better now.”

Johnny began to lean in, imperceptibly to himself. They were inches apart when he realized what he was doing, and a flash of nerves kept him from bridging the gap. He saw now how thick her eyelashes were, dark and feathery and soft over her brown eyes. Her fingers gently grazed his chin and she reached to cup his face.

It was a fleeting little peck, shorter than a blink, but it was long enough to make his mouth burn. Even if she couldn’t steal his jacket, she still had to steal _something._

The smoke in his head cleared and he opened his eyes.

“Hey, no fair. I was gonna do it.” He muttered.

She giggled, “You were taking too long.”

“It was my turn!”

“Then don’t be such a slowpoke next time!” She said, shaking his head in her hands.

“So there’s a next time?” Johnny grinned.

“Yeah. I mean, I’m gonna steal it again eventually.”

Playfully, she bumped her knuckles against his cheek. He tapped his knuckles on her shoulder in response. They performed it like some sort of strange handshake, their grins no longer sharp or mean but mutually softened. Laughter and rose red quaked off her shoulders as they strolled back into school.


End file.
